


no big believer in romance

by pinkkboii



Series: the one who got away [1]
Category: Newsies (1992), Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Idiots in Love, M/M, Rated teen for swearing, karaoke fic(eventually), sprace is background sorry, tw- bar, tw- mentions of alcohol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-10
Updated: 2021-01-23
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:21:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26396326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pinkkboii/pseuds/pinkkboii
Summary: He was once again thinking. Thinking about Davey, thinking about the past. Thinking about not just Davey, but his Davey- the Davey who convinced him to move across the country even though it would break both of their hearts, the Davey who loved strawberry ice cream, the Davey who used to send him pictures of cats when he knew Jack was sad, the Davey who-Was walking towards him.Shit.
Relationships: David Jacobs/Jack Kelly
Series: the one who got away [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1918450
Comments: 10
Kudos: 38





	1. 1

**Author's Note:**

> this is my first newsie's fic, and i'll be adding more chapters/companion pieces eventually! 
> 
> tw// mentions of alcohol, bars, swearing
> 
> edit 10/18 - i changed my pseud, so if you bookmarked this and it suddenly disappeared, than that's why. ok, have fun, pls leave kudos + a comment if you liked it :)

Jack was, in fact, not having a happy birthday so far.

He had started the day by waking up late, which led to him being an hour late to work. Being late to work isn’t good for anybody, but especially not when you have the notoriously strict Joseph Pulitzer as your boss. The man already didn’t like Jack for some reason (probably because he dated his daughter in high school), and breaking one of his top rules _definitely_ didn’t help.

Mr. Pulitzer only had 3 rules- well, he had more than that, but only 3 really important rules. Which Jack was prone to breaking, unfortunately for both him and for his job. The first rule was to not be disrespectful. Jack honestly tried his hardest with that one, considering he had a temper, a sharp tongue, and a problem with authority. However, Jack knew it was in his best interest to keep his anger in check and try to not ruffle any feathers with Pulitzer.

The second rule was to always be prepared. When he first started at this job, Jack had found that rule _particularly_ funny- he couldn’t help but think that grouchy old Joseph Pulitzer sounded like a little boy scout. After a few months, Jack learned that his boss was _nothing_ like a boy scout. The man was very serious about this rule, and Jack learned quickly to double and triple-check his bag in the morning before he drove to work.

The third rule- the one that would probably cause Jack to be fired, eventually- was to never be late. Pulitzer was punctual to a fault, and expected those in his office to be the same way. Much to Mr. Pulitzer’s chagrin, most of them were not. Jack was one of the worst, though, and no amount of excuses would ever make Pulitzer allow it.

It took about an hour of searching through his bags, desk, and car for Jack to realize that he forgot his project at home. _Fantastic_. He had to present his work to Pulitzer in… an hour? _Shit_. That would not be easy to explain- he had now broken 2 out of Pulitzer’s huge rules, he was probably about to get his ass handed to him. _Double shit._

Jack was right, it was absolutely terrible to explain his dilemma to Pulitzer, who just barely let him off the hook. That would be fun to deal with later during his meeting when Pulitzer made passive aggressive comments that were _not so subtly_ directed at Jack.

The only other thing that could make this day worse came in the form of a text during his lunch break. Jack was sitting at his desk, slowly making his way through a bag of chips as he sketched some small figures on the corner of a paper. The sound of his text tone broke his concentration. He set down his chips and picked up his phone, hoping to see something good. It was not.

It was a text from his brother Race, telling him some new details about their karaoke night. See, every year on Jack’s birthday, Jack and his brothers, Race and Crutchie (and sometimes, friends would come along) would go to their local bar, which happened to have karaoke _every night_. It was the only thing holding Jack together this year, getting to sing some shitty 2000’s pop music with his brothers. According to Race, this year would not be just the brothers. Race had been at a coffee shop and ran into Jack’s old best friend-turned-boyfriend-turned-ex-boyfriend, Davey Jacobs. And then invited him to their karaoke night to “catch up.”

 _Really, Race?_ “Catch up?” Catching up is for old friends you haven’t seen in years and are okay with seeing, not for your brother’s ex-boyfriend who unintentionally broke his heart. Whatever, he would have to suck it up for a night. It was still a night out with his boys, just with an extra guest. Who he hadn’t seen since they broke up last year. _Fuck._

See, Jack and Davey hadn’t broken up on bad terms or anything. It was really more of a mutual decision. It wasn’t that either of them really wanted to break up (or at least, Jack hadn’t thought so). Davey had gotten a job offer in Boston and taken it, and Jack had managed to score an art residency in Santa Fe. Both of them would be fools to pass up their separate opportunities, and both of them knew they wouldn’t be able to maintain the relationship from opposite ends of the country, so they decided to split before they moved. They had tried to keep in contact, really, but neither of them had time, and then Jack changed his number, and it just didn’t work.

Now Jack was going to be seeing him for the first time since their break-up. _Great_. He turned off his phone and was about to go back to his sketching, when Pulitzer walked by his desk and cleared his throat.

Jack sighed and turned back to his work, quietly singing under his breath. “Happy birthday to me.”

00000000000000000000000

Jack stumbled into his apartment, taking off his suit jacket as he walked in the door. He absolutely hated wearing suits to work, it was one of the things he _hated_ most about his job- besides Pulitzer.

He walked into his room, taking off his long-sleeved shirt and replacing it with a light blue button-up with short sleeves. It was comfortable, and if Jack remembered Davey saying he loved that shirt when they were together, then hey, who could say? He grabbed his keys and dashed out the door, realizing he was about to be late for his own birthday tradition.

As he got in his car and drove towards the bar, he started thinking (never a good thing). At first, he tried to keep his mind off of Davey and what had happened between them. He thought about Crutchie, and reminded himself to ask the young boy how he was doing in college. His youngest brother was at the top of his class and was majoring in biology, so he was actually very smart. Unfortunately for Crutchie, he was saddled with the two idiots that were Jack and Race, so he didn’t often get a chance to use the intellectual side of his brain.

He then thought of his other brother, Racetrack. They called him Race for short, which was confusing for anybody who had just met them, considering his name was actually Antonio. Considering the amount of dumb shit Race and Jack did, you could definitely assume that both of them were complete idiots, which was mainly true. However, Race was actually much smarter than anybody ever gave him credit for. He just graduated with an English major, and was training to become a teacher. The boy had a way with words that could render anybody speechless. He could wax poetic about the nearest object close to him, and then get distracted and start off on a tangent about something that had happened earlier in the day.

With both of his brothers graduating with impressive majors, Jack was the outlier of the family as the artist. While the other boys had been in college, Jack was moving across the country to be a painter in Santa Fe- not that Medda minded. His adoptive mother owned a theater and he had helped her for years with painting backdrops and designing sets. She was actually the person who convinced Jack to take the residency in Santa Fe.

Well, her and-

 _Davey_.

Would Davey be the same person he was last year, or would he have changed? Well, of course he’d changed at least a little bit, but was he more mature now? Was he more laid-back? Would Davey look the same? _Would he look better?_ _God_ , Jack sure hoped not. Jack always swore that Davey was the prettiest person he’d ever laid his eyes on, and would absolutely swoon when/if Davey gave him certain looks.

Shaking his head as if to clear the distracting thoughts from his head, Jack turned onto the street in front of the karaoke bar and parked. He stepped out and took a deep breath, walking towards the doors. _Well,_ he thought, _here goes nothing._

00000000000000000000000

Jack felt a smile spread across his face as he walked into the familiar purple room. Honestly, the bar was quite tacky if you looked at it- the walls were a weird, almost-velvety texture, but the kind of fabric that had gotten ruined and gross from years of being puked on and sweated on. The black carpeting had a mixture of red, purple, blue, and yellow swirls all over it that hurt your eyes if you stared at it for long enough. The tables were always sticky somehow, and most of the chairs had wobbly legs. Jack _loved_ it.

He walked further into the room, scanning the array of tables for his brothers. He figured that they were sitting at a small table in the back left corner of the room. It may have seemed like a simple seating choice, but the three boys had narrowed it down to an exact science over the years. It was far enough from the stage that, if need be, they could easily slip out of the bar without being noticed. It was located in a corner of the room that was hard to get to, with too many tables stuffed into a small space. It was difficult to maneuver around the tables sober, and it wasn’t even an option when drunk- that meant they had a very low chance of interacting with overly drunk people, and there was less vomit and spilled alcohol in that corner than there was anywhere else in the bar. The boys had also figured out, after years of getting glared at by whoever was trying to screech-sing their song, that the further back you sat, the louder you talk and not disturb people.

He spotted a familiar head of curly blonde hair and headed over to their table. He just smiled wider, as he flicked Race on the back of the head, prompting a yelp from the boy.

“Heya, boys!” Jack shouted over the music. “How’s everyone doin’?”

His brothers both turned to face him and smiled, ecstatic to finally see their brother again. Jack went around the table and hugged both of them (and mildly trying to crush Race, but who’s asking?).

Race opened his mouth, clearly about to speak, when Jack interrupted him.

“Why?” Jack asked, whining.

Race just stared at him, dumbfounded. “What do you mean, ‘why?’”

Jack glared at him. “Racer, you know _exactly_ what I’m talking about.”

Race sat still for a minute, silently trying to figure out what Jack was talking about, when it clicked in his brain. His eyes went wide, his eyebrows shooting up towards his hairline, as he shrugged his shoulders apologetically. Jack just sighed, already dreading seeing Davey, while Crutchie just snickered quietly at Jack’s misfortune.

Crutchie finally stopped laughing at Jack, _little shit_ , and spoke. “Well, to answer your earlier question before all of…” He looked toward Race, who was laughing hysterically at this point, on the verge of falling off of his chair. Which he did. Loudly. Crutchie stifled a laugh. “ _That_ … I’m actually doin’ good.”

Crutchie launched into some story about some classmate or something, while Race squawked on the ground, protesting the fact that neither of his brothers helped him up- or at least, that’s what Jack assumed happened. He wasn’t fully paying attention.

He was once again thinking. Thinking about Davey, thinking about the past. Thinking about not just Davey, but _his_ Davey- the Davey who convinced him to move across the country even though it would break both of their hearts, the Davey who loved strawberry ice cream, the Davey who used to send him pictures of cats when he knew Jack was sad, the Davey who-

Was walking towards him.

_Shit._


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Hey, guys!” Davey said once he was within yelling distance of the boys. 
> 
> “Good to see you all again!” He hugged each of them, and maybe Jack was imagining it, but he seemed to hang on a bit tighter when he got to Jack. 
> 
> “Happy birthday, Jack.” Davey smiled again at him. Jack tried his hardest not to melt a bit.
> 
> This was going to be a long night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aaaaaand here's where stuff actually happens!
> 
> davey's performance is based off of this performance ( https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MQm0MpGNMAU ) by ben fankhauser

Jack just stared at Davey, his eyes wide as saucers.

There he was, pretty as ever. David Jacobs, his former best-friend, and Jack’s “one who got away” (not that he’d admit that to himself). Walking through the table maze of the bar, being trailed by some tall blonde dude behind him. Was that his…?

_Whatever_ , Jack thought. He didn’t care. _Right?_ He shook himself out of his mini-trance and smiled over at Davey, purposefully ignoring the pointed look Crutchie was giving him.

“Hey, guys!” Davey said once he was within yelling distance of the boys.

“Good to see you all again!” He hugged each of them, and _maybe_ Jack was imagining it, but he seemed to hang on a bit tighter when he got to Jack.

“Happy birthday, Jack.” Davey smiled again at him. Jack tried his hardest not to melt a bit.

This was going to be a long night.

Race gestured to the man who had been following Davey, raising his eyebrows as if to say, _“And who might this be?”_

Davey seemed to snap out of whatever Jack-induced haze he had been in and grabbed the man’s arm, ushering him forward. “Guys, this is my boyfriend, Andrew.” Davey appeared to hesitate on the word “boyfriend”.

Jack froze.

_Boyfriend?? What the hell_ , Jack thought. _Had Davey really moved on so fast?_ Well, logically speaking, it hadn’t been fast. It had been over a year since Jack and Davey broke up and moved to opposite sides of the country. Of course he had looked to date someone else. _But Andrew?_

Jack inspected Andrew. The man seemed to be Jack’s opposite, almost on everything. It wasn’t hard to see why Davey was attracted to the man, but Jack couldn’t help but feel a bit resentful towards him. Everything about him somehow managed to highlight all of Jack’s insecurities.

Andrew’s blonde hair swooped over his forehead, leaving just enough space for his bright blue eyes to shine out, and his tanned skin gave him a glowing complexion. Jack self-consciously ran a hand through his hair, hoping that his usual brown waves looked presentable. As if _everything else_ wasn’t enough, Andrew towered over Jack, who was already short. _Just great._

Jack was brought out of his thoughts by Race’s sharp elbow jabbing into his ribs. He winced, realizing he had been staring at the pair. Jack cleared his throat and stuck his hand out for Andrew to shake. “Hey, I’m Jack, nice to meet you.”

He ignored the sinking feeling in his stomach.

Andrew firmly gripped his hand ( _maybe a bit tighter than necessary_ ) and shook it. “Oh, I know. I’ve heard plenty about you.” The man smiled at him in a way that should’ve been warm and welcoming, but instead seemed threatening. Those blue eyes stared at him menacingly. Jack was already uncomfortable.

Jack walked over to Crutchie and leaned down to whisper in his ear, “That was weird, right? I’m not just imagining it?” Crutchie nodded quickly, before going over to sit with the others. Jack shuddered, unable to shake the bad feeling in his gut. He followed Crutchie and sat with the boys.

Jack tried to focus long enough to make polite small talk like his brothers were doing, but he couldn’t focus on what anybody was saying long enough to actually process the words anybody said. He didn’t care how many good things he said or how nice he was to Race and Crutchie, Jack just couldn’t get past his initial dislike of Andrew.

He snapped out of it and tried to focus back on the conversation that the rest of the table was having. From what Jack had heard, it sounded like Andrew was figuring out the story behind Race and Crutchie’s nicknames.

“So,” Andrew faced Crutchie. “I don’t have to ask about your nickname,” he said, gesturing towards the crutch under his arm. “However, I don’t quite get yours. Is it Race because you were on the track team in high school?” He asked, turning towards Race.

Race smirked and lowered his voice. “You could say that, yeah.” Davey choked on his drink, while Jack and Crutchie burst into giggles at Andrew’s confused face.

Andrew looked up at Race’s face staring him in the eyes, one eyebrow raised. “Wait, you mean you…” He trailed off.

“Slept with most of the track team, that’s right.” Race drawled, barely containing his laughter. At this point, Crutchie and Jack were doubled over, and Davey had his head on the table, his shoulders shaking with laughter. Andrew pouted at them, upset that the laughter was at his expense.

Davey brought his head off the table and smiled at Andrew, putting a hand on his back. “It’s okay, it’s one of those things you had to be there for,” he explained. Andrew leaned his head over onto Davey’s shoulder, and Jack’s chest felt tight.

_Right_. This couldn’t happen to him again, not when Davey is happy in his relationship, not after all of the progress Jack has made after his heart was broken. He pushes the thought aside and forces himself to stay present in the conversation.

After about an hour of pleasant conversation, reminiscing, and catching up between everybody, Race had the _brilliant_ idea that it was karaoke time (he may have had a few drinks more than everybody else), and volunteered himself to go first.

Jack watched as a tipsy Race stumbled over to the stage at the front of the room and waited in line to pick out a song. Once Race left, Crutchie decided that would be the _perfec_ t time to go to the bathroom and _abandon Jack,_ who just stared at his back with a helpless expression.

He turned his attention back to Andrew and Davey. “Ay, Davey,” he said. “How long are you gonna be out here in New York for?”

Davey’s face brightened a little bit- Jack wanted to _die_. “I’m actually moving back here!”

“No shit, really?”

“Yeah!” Davey said excitedly. “After I went to Boston last year and booked a job at that law firm, I realized I didn’t enjoy anything about the place, so I decided to come back home.” Jack just stared at Davey- something seemed _off_ about how he was talking, like there was something he wasn’t saying, and Jack couldn’t put his finger on it. Davey stared back at him. They made eye contact, wide and unblinking.

“So, Jack,” Andrew said, interrupting whatever weird little moment just happened. “I hear you’re an artist?”

Jack plastered on a smile. “Yep, sure am.”

Andrew squinted his eyes at Jack. “How does that pay the bills, though? It’s not exactly the most reliable field.”

“Well-” Jack started to answer, when Davey cut him off. “Jack’s art pays the bill by itself, he’s very good.” Davey said, shooting a glare towards Andrew. “He’s been doing this for long enough, I think he’d know how to do all of the official stuff, don’t be rude,” he scolded.

Jack shot a grateful smile at Davey. “Well, thanks Dave. But yeah, I’ve been doing this for a few years, and I get some good money doing commissions, plus it’s not too hard to find places looking for an artist to do their designs,” Jack said, hoping his voice came off as explanatory and not defensive. Andrew stared at him for what seemed like a second too long, and then nodded at Jack.

They sat there in silence for a few minutes, while Jack prayed to whatever gods or deities were listening for Crutchie to come back so he wouldn’t have to awkwardly sit here with his ex and his ex’s new boyfriend, who already seemed to hate him.

_Charlie Morris-Larkin, I swear to God if you don’t come back to this table soon,_ Jack thought.

000000000000000000000

As if his thoughts had summoned him, Crutchie came hobbling back to the table after a few minutes. Jack sighed in relief, partly because his brother was back, and partly because he wouldn’t have to be alone with Davey and Andrew. Wouldn’t have to be alone with the withering glances Andrew had been throwing him over his shoulder for the past few minutes.

Jack’s attention was immediately drawn to the front of the room, where he heard the intro to a 2000’s pop song… _Race must be singing now,_ he guessed.

He was right- as soon as he turned his head, there was his little brother, swaying on stage (mildly tipsy, but who’s asking?) not even looking at the screen with the lyrics as he began belting out Britney Spears’ _‘Oops, I Did It Again._ ’ Jack chuckled at the familiar song choice.

In this birthday tradition with his brothers, the boys had created many mini-traditions within the karaoke night, including (but not limited to): Race singing a Britney Spears song, Crutchie ordering the fries from the bar (and then _immediately_ regretting it, when he has to hobble to the shitty bar restroom as fast as his crutches let him), and Jack sketching random faces or objects he saw in the bar on napkins or receipts, because “inspirations strikes when it strikes.”

So far, all but one of their weird traditions had happened.

Jack thought about it, he really did, but he didn’t exactly… trust himself to draw anything right now. Something important to know about Jack is that, when he had a lot on his mind, he would start drawing something familiar, something _comfortable_. The thing is, sometimes, that just happened to be people. People like Medda, or his brothers, or friends, or _Davey_ , and Jack knew that couldn’t happen right now, especially not with a _certain somebody_ glaring over at him every few minutes.

Well… _fuck it_ , Jack thought. He grabbed the napkin in front of him and took the pencil Crutchie pulled out of his bag, _he knew Jack too well,_ and began a small sketch of Race on stage, who was giggling and trying to keep on singing. A small smile grew on his face as he watched his little brother having fun in front of the room.

Soon- _too soon, Jack wasn’t with his sketch yet, dammit,_ Race stepped off the stage and made his way back to their table, panting but grinning. “Any of youse wanna go up next?” Race asked, sitting down in between Crutchie and Davey. “I vote for Dave.”

Davey stared at Race, pouting and sticking out his bottom lip. _Now that’s just not fair,_ Jack thought distantly. “Race, no. It’s been a while since I’ve done this,” He argued, pointedly looking anywhere but Jack. All of the boys at the table, including Andrew, began protesting, trying to encourage Davey to get up on stage.

When Jack turned and looked up at the stage, he saw a young man step up to the piano on the side of the stage, set down his music, and start softly playing a warmup. “Dave, look.” Jack said, interrupting the table’s discourse. “They have some piano player here, so you won’t even have to sing any embarrassing songs, like Race.” Ignoring Race’s indignant noise, he continued. “‘Sides, you’re a good singer Dave, I know I- we missed hearing your voice.”

Davey bit his lip, and nodded, a blush spreading across his face. “Uh- yeah, alright. Okay, I guess I’m gonna sing.” The boys whooped and hollered, cheering as they watched Davey stride up to the stage, and figure out what piece of the piano player’s he would perform.

The piano player (Maxwell, as he’d introduced himself earlier) stood up from his bench and walked up to the microphone, clearing his throat to get the room’s attention. “Hello everybody,” He said with a polite, but nervous smile on his face. “My name is Maxwell, if you didn’t hear earlier, and I’m a student at that college down the street.” He made a vague over there gesture towards the wall on his right side.

“I’m studying music, and one of the requirements is to have somebody perform along with me while I accompany them. The music and lyrics are both originals of mine, and they will be performed by…” He stopped speaking and leaned over to quietly ask Davey his name. “David Jacobs!”

Upon hearing his name, Davey turned a light pink and gave the audience a small smile, while all of the boys cheered and screamed (much to the chagrin of all of the other patrons in the bar.).

“Alright, so this song is called ‘ _The One Who Got Away_ ’,” Jack gulped. Davey’s eyes widened. _Oh no_. “And I hope you enjoy it!” Maxwell gave Davey a quick pat on the shoulder and sat down at the piano bench once again, cracked his knuckles, and began playing a soft, melodious intro.

Jack turned around to look at the other boys. Race and Crutchie both had their eyebrows slightly raised and mouths snapped shut- both boys knew what had happened between Jack and Davey, and both knew exactly what this song could mean to him. Andrew looked stiff, and uncomfortable (which, Jack noted, was exactly not how he should look when Davey was singing. Davey was an amazing singer, and Andrew should be proud of him.), and his face was carefully neutral.

Jack turned around just in time to hear Davey start the song, and _boy, was he glad he did._

_“So, we’re officially a memory, there’s no use dwelling in the past._ ” Davey began singing, his voice gentle, and a soft look on his face that Jack didn’t want to try and figure out.

_“Well, I’ve always understood, that anything that feels this good is the kind of thing that wasn’t meant to last.”_ Jack felt a careful tap on his back. He turned around to see Crutchie staring at him, one eyebrow raised. Jack nodded slightly, signaling he was okay.

He was okay.

_Right?_

Well, he was about as okay as you could be when the person _who unintentionally broke your heart_ is singing about their ‘one who got away,’ trying to avoid eye contact with you, and is there with their boyfriend.

_Shit._

“ _So, I’ll get over you, ‘cause that’s what people do. Yes, you and I, we’ll both get by we’ll make it, come what may.”_ Jack just closed his eyes and leaned his head back a bit, listening to Davey sing.

In high school, he had always loved hearing Davey sing, whether it was when they were hanging out and Davey didn’t think Jack could hear him, or when he was painting sets for Medda and could hear Davey belting out Broadway hits for her. It had always been one of his favorite sounds, and really, it was one of the first things Jack had loved about Davey, even before they got together.

_“The days will turn to years, and when the smoke all clears, when I refer to what we were, I’ll simply smile and say,”_ Jack looked up at this line, and saw Davey making eye contact with him with a bittersweet expression. " _You're the one who got away_."

Jack was pulled out of his Davey-induced trance by the sound of a chair scooching across carpet, and looked back to see Andrew getting up and heading towards the doors in the back of the bar, looking back towards Davey once, before opening the doors and leaving the bar.

Race knocked his knuckle on the table, getting all his brothers’ attention. “So…?” He asked, gesturing towards the now-empty chair where Andrew had been sitting. Both Jack and Crutchie shook their heads, unsure of what just happened.

_“I’ve never claimed to be an optimist, no big believer in romance_.” Davey’s eyes were closed, as he swayed slightly to the music, a small smile gracing his features. Jack thought he’d never looked so beautiful.

As if he sensed something was wrong, Davey’s eyes snapped open, and his gaze wandered over to the gap at the table. He raised an eyebrow at Jack, who just shrugged in response.

Davey scrunched his face up a tiny bit, _damn it, Jack was going to die before the night ended,_ took a deep breath, and continued with the song. _“But we could have worked out well, and it’s frustrating as hell, that we never really ever got a chance.”_ Jack felt like all of the wind had been knocked out of him- those lyrics were starting to hit a little too hard for him. He felt his eyes start to water , and he quickly wiped at them before anybody could see.

“ _The world keeps turning still, just like it always will.”_ Davey sang out, his voice getting stronger as he progressed with the song. “ _I wish it all, would stop or stall, but it does not obey._ ” He was now staring directly at Jack, who felt his face grow hot (Jack knew his brothers could see that, and would tease him mercilessly for it, _assholes._ ) but kept the eye contact, scared of what would happen if he looked away.

Davey smiled at him, the corners of his eyes crinkling. _“I’m sure we’ll both move on, though what we had is gone. But there’s a part, deep in my heart, where you will always stay, as the one who got away.”_ Jack’s heart was pounding in his chest.

Something in Davey’s eyes turned sad, a little more distant. _“I’ll tell myself that I’ve lost nothing worth grieving. I’ll list the reasons we were bound to fall through.”_ He belted out a high note in the middle of his sentence, and Jack felt a proud smile split across his cheeks, not even bothering to try and stop it.

_“And someday I might go as far as believing, that, that is actually true._ ” Davey was now glancing at the floor, as if something in the song suddenly resonated with him, too.

At this point, Jack’s heart was thudding hard enough in his skull, he was sure Race and Crutchie could hear it. _“No, I cannot foresee what lies in store for me. Still, even now, I know somehow that I’ll turn out okay._ ” Davey slowly began lifting his head up from where it was staring at the ugly carpeting.

“ _I’ll wonder now and then,_ ” Davey’s voice rang out, clear and confident. _“What truly might have been. And sure, regret may haunt me yet, but that’s the price you pay.”_ Jack looked around. Andrew still wasn’t back, Crutchie was watching Davey perform, and Race was looking at him expectantly. Jack ignored the pointed glance from Race and went back to watching Davey.

_“For the one who got away._ ” Davey took a deep breath before singing the final line. _“You’re the one who got away.”_

Maxwell finished the piano outro, then stood up next to Davey and motioned for him to take a bow. Davey was beaming the entire time.

_God, he loved Davey_ , Jack thought absently.

_Wait, what?_

Jack felt like somebody had just flicked him on the forehead, grabbed his face between their hands, and showed him what had been there all along, _right in front of him,_ the undeniable facts, the looks, the heart-thumping, the blushing, the stuttering, the nervousness, and _shit, Jack loved him so much._

Jack felt his breathing pick up.

No, no, _no_ , this wasn’t good, he couldn’t panic right now, especially after just realizing _he never stopped loving his ex-boyfriend._ His ex-boyfriend who was walking towards him with a dopey grin on his face, Jack couldn’t do this, so he did the only thing he could think of.

Jack stood up, smiling apologetically at his brothers, and _ran._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okokok so i'm sorry i just,,,,, disappeared for a bit but school's killing me and i couldn't finish this chapter BUT here it is!
> 
> do we like andrew? do we want more of him? (he's not really going to be in the next chapter, but i definitely have a spinoff fic in mind of something that's going to involve him and davey) 
> 
> hopefully, the third chapter should be up soon, but who knows lmao
> 
> anyways, you know the drill, pls pls pls leave kudos and comments, they absolutely make my day, and if you have requests, questions, or just want to talk, you can put that in the comments <3


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so maybe ran was overdramatic, but what else was expected from one of Medda Larkin’s sons?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK i know i haven't updated since october IM SORRY but,,, school yk
> 
> anyways its 3 am and i just finished editing this (thank god) after months of having the ending half-finished in my docs and I WANT TO POST IT FINALLY so here we are
> 
> its not explicitly stated in the chapter, but the song race sings is 'cruel to be kind' by letters to cleo. its not relevant to the story at all, but i just think you should know that.
> 
> also, !! tw for mild panic attack at the beginning of the chapter !!

Okay, so maybe _ran_ was overdramatic, but what else was expected from one of Medda Larkin’s sons?

Jack sped off from their table to the bathroom, his eyes burning as tears threatened to fall. He huffed, pushing the restroom door open and locking it as soon as it closed again.

“ _God_ , what the hell is wrong with me?” he berates himself. Jack could feel his chest getting tighter, and it felt like there was something in his throat. He swallowed hard, taking the deepest breaths he could manage. He was trying to stop the oncoming panic attack he could feel rapidly approaching, _and was he really on the verge of a panic attack because his ex-boyfriend sang a song and he couldn’t handle his emotions? Shit, he’s worse off than he thought._

Making his way to the other side of the small single-stall bathroom, Jack stood in front of the grubby mirror, taking in his appearance. He looked rough, to say the least.

His eyes were becoming red-rimmed and puffy from rubbing them to keep from crying, the slight tear stains around them easier to see in the fluorescent bathroom lighting. He scrubbed his hands over his face, wiping at the corners of his eyes where more tears had begun to gather. The dark circles under his eyes were becoming more apparent, and even he could see how exhausted he looked.

Jack sighed, tearing his eyes away from the mirror. He reached across the sink to grab some paper towels and wet them under the faucet, wiping his face off. At least he looked about as good as he felt.

If he was being honest, Jack was kind of angry with himself. He had no right to get as upset as he did about Davey singing, especially not after they had broken up a year ago, and especially not when Davey had a boyfriend, _who was_ _still outside of the bar_. He, of course, had to go and let his feelings ruin his night out with his brothers, and his damn birthday.

The longer he stared at his reflection in the mirror, the more Jack’s breathing slowed and the less frustrated he became. Obviously, he was still upset, he had realized too late that he was still in love with his ex-boyfriend, and _shit,_ if that wasn’t going to be an awful situation for Jack to deal with. He hadn’t noticed how much of his life felt wrong and out of place without Davey, not until after he had left, and Jack just ignored his feelings about that and repressed them to deal with another time (the time was apparently now, past Jack had awful timing).

Whatever. There was a better time and place for his weird, emotion-fueled panic attack. Jack ran a shaky hand through his hair and took an unsteady breath, looking back up to himself in the mirror. “Pull it together, Kelly,” he said, jabbing his reflection in the chest. He took one final calming inhale, holding for a few seconds before he finally exhaled, and turned around to walk out of the bathroom.

By the time he made it back to their table in the back of the room, he noticed that Crutchie was the sole member of their party left at the table. Of course, Jack could hear Race up on the karaoke stage again (this time, he was singing the ending of some 90’s power-pop song), but couldn’t figure out where the other two had gone.

Sitting down in the chair next to Crutchie, he leaned in close to mutter in his brother’s ear, “Hey Chuck, what’s the deal?”

Crutchie leaned back so he could softly say to Jack while gesturing towards their brother, “Obviously, you can see dumbass up there-” He paused so they could both snicker at that comment. “And Dave followed his fella outside a little bit after you got up. Speakin’ a’ that, are you okay? You look kinda rough.”

“Gee, thanks.” Jack snorted, earning a playful glare from Crutchie. “‘S’nothin’, Crutch. ‘M just a bit upset, but I’ll be fine.” Crutchie just nodded in understanding and squeezed his shoulder.

They sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes- well, as silent as you can get in a karaoke bar- before Jack had enough. He stood up, tapping the top of Crutchie’s head to get his attention. “I’m gonna go outside and make sure everything’s good, okay?” He stated, more than asked, jerking his head towards the exit as an indicator of where he was going. Crutchie’s eyebrows raised, and he blinked at Jack quickly, before cutting himself off with a decisive nod.

Jack took long strides to reach the doors, purposely ignoring the anxiety bubbling up in his stomach as he pushed through to reach the sidewalk in front of the club. The outside of the club was just as unceremonious as the inside of the small building, with a sidewalk out front that led to an alley next to the building, with a curb that was just big enough for a few people to sit on it. Jack could hear a few scattered raindrops splashing on the pavement- _when had it started raining?_

As he walked around the side of the building to peek at the alleyway, he heard-

“-you still love him, don’t you!” He couldn’t place the voice, but it was obviously an adult man’s. And he sounded angry, who was he angry with? “It was always him, and it was always going to be!” Jack wondered briefly why this man was so mad with, until-

“So what if I do? A-and what if it is? It doesn’t matter anyways,” a pleading voice answered. Was that-

“Of course it matters, David!”

_Oh._

It was Davey. Which meant that the other man’s voice was Andrew’s. Why were Davey and Andrew arguing?

“It matters because I was always going to be a fucking consolation prize for you! Do you know how shitty that is?”

Whatever it was, it didn’t sound good, so Jack just quickly popped his head around the side of the building so they could see him. “Andrew, that’s not-”

Jack cleared his throat, getting both mens’ attention. “Hey fellas, is uh… is everything good out here?” For a few seconds, a tense silence hung in the air as Davey ran a shaky hand through his hair and Andrew rolled his eyes. It was broken by the sound of Andrew scoffing and starting to walk away.

“Everything is just _fine_ , Jack.” Andrew called out over his shoulder. “You two have a great night.”

Davey snapped his head towards the direction Andrew had gone off, his face contorting in disbelief. “Andrew, what-”

Andrew whirled around to face the two of them, venom in his voice. “Don’t. Don’t call me, and don’t try to find me. I’m going back to Boston, you two enjoy the rest of your evening.” The two men were left in a gaping silence as Andrew stalked off to his car, got in, and pulled out of the street they were on.

Jack and Davey stood stiffly for a moment, neither one speaking, before Jack heard the telltale sound of shoes scraping on asphalt and turned to see Davey sit down on the curb, putting his head in his hands.

Jack didn’t know what to say, and floundered for a minute, before settling on a brief, “Hey, you okay?” He moved to sit next to Davey, looking just past his face (he wasn’t sure he could handle looking at the man’s heartbroken face, it was Jack’s least favorite sight) and settling his gaze on dandelion growing up through the cracks in the sidewalk.

Davey laughed a short, humorless chuckle. “Uh, maybe?” He turned to look back at Jack, and for the first time that night, Jack could see the defeat in his eyes, the tired set of his face in the dim glow of the streetlight. “I think so, but I’m pretty sure I just got dumped.”

Jack gave Davey’s shoulder a brief squeeze before settling his hand onto his own knee. “‘M real sorry ‘bout that, Dave, that sucks.” Davey just tipped his head slightly, in a way that Jack knew by now was his agreement without saying anything.

Davey looked back out onto the alley they were facing, his eyes following the motions of raindrops as they splashed into puddles. “You know,” he started. “I think it was for the best.”

Jack could probably figure out what he meant with the little bit of context he had from their argument, but he was too afraid to bring it up first, afraid of the answer. What he was afraid of, exactly, he couldn’t say. Regardless of whatever anxiety was plaguing his brain, he tapped Davey on the shoulder so he would turn around and make eye contact. “What do you mean?”

Unless Jack was mistaken, he was almost certain that he saw a light flush color Davey’s cheeks as his eyes darted to the ground in front of him, suddenly determined not to look Jack in the eyes.

Davey looked like he was debating whether or not to say his next sentence, before he spoke. “Well, that depends on how much you heard.” Before Jack could even attempt to defend himself, Davey gave him a joking glare. “You’re not subtle, Jackie, never have been.”

Jack chuckled at that, trying to ignore the way his chest warmed from the inside upon seeing Davey joke with him again. “Damn, Jacobs, you really have no shame, huh?” Davey just did his head-tipping agreement, so Jack continued. “But yeah, I heard the tail-end, where he was talkin’ ‘bout you… an’ someone else. That’s all I heard.” By the time Jack finally _stopped talking,_ both men are looking anywhere but each other, Jack awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck, while Davey kept his gaze trained somewhere in the distance, just a few feet shy of actually looking at something.

A beat passed before Davey heaved out a sigh and looked back up from wherever he was staring off to and up at Jack. “Yeah, that’s… I guess that’s what I mean when I say it’s for the best.” Davey cut himself off, but Jack just hummed and nodded, so he continued. “I mean, it _is_ pretty shitty of me to try and ignore my feelings by moving onto someone else that I’m not even interested in, especially if I know I don’t have a chance with the original person.” He sucked in a deep breath and shook his head slightly before finishing his sentence. “It’s just too much risk and not enough reward, as far as I can tell."

And, _shit_ , if that wasn’t like a sucker-punch to Jack’s gut.

Sure, he was biased a little bit, but who was the bastard who broke Davey’s heart? _His_ Davey? Jack ignored the jealousy in the back of his mind, clawing its way back into his thoughts, ugly and raw.

Jack nudged Davey with his elbow to get his full attention again. “But how do you know?”

Davey just raised an unimpressed eyebrow at him. “What do you mean?” His voice flat as he echoed Jack’s earlier statement.

“What I _mean_ is…” Jack swallowed the lump rising in his throat. “How do you know that the person you… love, doesn’t love you back? Like, have you asked him?” Jack didn’t _really_ want to know about Davey’s love life at the moment, especially since his own was crumbling before his eyes, but he cared too much about the other to do anything but listen and attempt to comfort him.

Davey scoffed. “ _Please_ , as if. Someone like him would never go for someone like me.”

Jack considered that answer for a moment before asking, “Well, what’s he like?” He immediately regretted the question as soon as he said it, _damn him and his big mouth._

A pained expression crossed Davey’s face for a moment, before settling on something more resigned. “Well,” he started, his voice soft. “He’s sweet. Funny, too. And an artist, he’s so talented, but refuses to accept any kind of compliment, no matter who’s saying it. Gorgeous, of course.” Davey was actually smiling now, albeit kind of sadly. “I doubt he’d ever feel the same, but _god,_ if he did…” He trailed off, looking sheepishly down at his hands.

When Jack nodded at Davey encouragingly, he began speaking again. “It’s just,” he hesitated. “I’ve known him forever, so there’s that added pressure of ruining the friendship, you know?” Jack had to swallow a laugh. _Yes,_ he thought bitterly, _I really do know._

Before he could think of a better response, Jack asked “Is it one of our friends?” (And, once again, immediately regretted asking.) He ignored the sinking feeling in his chest when Davey shortly nodded, and raised his eyebrows in question.

“Who is it?” Jack asked, not sure if he actually wanted the answer.

“No.”

“C’mon, Davey, who is it? Is it Finch?” He pressed.

Davey sighed. “Jack, no-”

“Albert?” He asked, half joking.

“Jackie-”

“Elmer?”

“Jack!” Davey’s exasperated voice called out to him, but at this point, Jack couldn’t stop himself.

“What?” He laughed. “Are you gonna tell me who it i-”

Whatever he was about to say was cut off by the feeling of Davey leaning forwards and pressing their lips together in a quick kiss. It was over almost as quickly as it had started, and Davey pulled back with a flushed face. Jack regretted not reciprocating, but the kiss was over too quickly for him to try, anyways.

“Jack, I-” Davey stammered, pulling his hands back into his lap and fidgeting with them- a nervous habit he’d had since they were kids, and apparently still had. “It’s you, I love you.” Jack could barely hear the last part of Davey’s sentence, but he couldn’t miss it.

Jack reached over and put one of his hands over Davey’s moving ones, stilling them. He took a deep breath, before admitting, “I love you too Dave, how could I not? You’re… you, you’re my favorite person, my muse, my-” He stopped himself before his sappy rambling could get any more embarrassing and shook his head, as if that would clear his train of thought. He was glad his skin was dark enough that the blush he could feel spreading wouldn’t show on his face. “I’ve been hung up on you since you left, and hell, before then, too. You’ve always had me, sweetheart.” When Jack finished, he looked up to see Davey with a soft smile gracing his features, his cheeks a little bit pink (probably from the endearment, Jack hadn't meant for it to slip out, but he wouldn't take it back after seeing how Davey reacted.)

“You really mean that?” Davey asked hopefully. Jack barked a laugh and nodded aggressively.

“God, Davey, of course I do, did you even hear what I sai-'' Davey cut him off again by kissing him, (not that he minded) and this time, Jack didn’t hesitate before pressing back against him. When they broke apart, Jack pressed their foreheads together.

Davey laughed a bit, before breathlessly saying, “I’m sorry I didn’t ask first.”

Jack squeezed his hand and grinned at him. “Well, I’m definitely not complaining,” he said, making both of them break out into giggles.

A few moments went by before Jack offered Davey his hand and pulled him up off the curb, putting an arm around his waist as they walked back inside and out the light sprinkle of rain that was still falling on them.

000000000000000000000

Later that night, Davey had softly asked him, “Was it a good birthday?”

Jack thought about his and Davey’s intertwined hands over the console as he drove them back to Jack’s place, thought about Davey now sitting on his bed in Jack’s hoodie, thought about the sweet smile he knew Davey would have on his face as he asked.

Jack looked up at him. “You know what,” he said, leaning his head on Davey’s shoulder. “I think it really was.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (this fic is entirely self-indulgent on a random idea, and i'm not completely happy with it, but i'm proud of myself)
> 
> two things that arent explicitly mentioned in the story- the song race is singing is cruel to be kind by letters to cleo, and jack is latino. neither are important to the story, but i just think you should know that.
> 
> uhhh that's the ending!! if you have anything you want me to write about, leave a comment or send me a request over on tumblr (pinkkboii, same as this site) 
> 
> thanks for sticking around to the ending of this fic, and a BIG THANK YOU to my friend who i send every change and idea to at 3 am, you know who you are, i love you and thanks for putting up with me

**Author's Note:**

> as i'm posting this, i still have to write the next chapter whoops
> 
> pls pls pls leave kudos+comments they absolutely make my day
> 
> if you enjoyed this or have ideas for fics in ths series, pls lmk (i'm thinking of writing one about jack and davey's break-up, the boys getting together, and also one about a plot point that had yet to be revealed )


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